


When You Call A Former Assassin "Babysitter"

by TheRealLadyLoki



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Kid Fic, M/M, Past Mpreg, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Trust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-06-05 18:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6715840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealLadyLoki/pseuds/TheRealLadyLoki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve nodded. It had been a year and a half since they'd rescued Bucky from Hydra, and while he still hadn't been cleared for active-duty with the Avengers, Steve trusted his judgement. When Peter had called the day before, distraught over having to leave their daughter to fly halfway around the world on urgent SHIELD business, Steve had suggested that Bucky stay with her for the week that they'd be gone. Peter, albeit hesitant at first, had not been difficult to win over.</p><p>Surprisingly, Tony had also agreed that it was a good idea. It would be a testament to how far he had come if he could survive one week with their insufferable granddaughter - especially when she was sick. While Tony loved their little angel to pieces, he also acknowledged that she'd inherited some of Wade's less... pleasant personality traits. She could drive a sane man to his wits end, and Bucky's sanity had set sail a long, long time ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Sick Little Girl

Two cloudy blue eyes stared at him from behind a fan of inky black hair, the color so similar to Steve's cornflour blue eyes that, for a moment, they stole Bucky's breath away. It was hard to believe that his best friend's granddaughter sat before him, bundled tightly in a Captain America blanket, with an Iron Man teddy bear tucked beneath her arm. 

There were some saltine crackers on the end table beside her, as well as a half-empty glass of room temperature apple juice. Used tissues were scattered over the coffee table, floor, and couch, so many that it amazed Bucky there were actually some left in the box. 

"Angel." Steve offered the little girl a small smile, which she weakly attempted to return. "This is my friend, Bucky. He's going to stay with you until Daddy and Papa come home."

"I don't feel so good, Pop-Pop." Her voice was low and gravely, and when she attempted to clear her throat, a deep, wet cough rattled her lungs. 

"I know, angel." Steve looked at her sympathetically. If he didn't have to attend a mission debriefing that afternoon, he would've been right by her side until Peter and Wade returned from their mission. "But Bucky will take good care of you. I promise."

The little girl turned to Bucky, "He's pretty, Pop-Pop."

Steve clapped his friend on the shoulder, "See, Buck - she likes you already!" And then, "I gotta hit the road before Fury gets on my ass. The emergency numbers are on the fridge in case anything happens, which I doubt, and the drawer under the sink has a bunch of take-out menus if you don't want to cook. Make sure she takes her meds..."

Bucky nodded, "I know, I know. We went over this about a hundred times already." But he knew that it was hard for Steve, leaving his granddaughter in such a pitiable state. "The kid and I are gonna be fine."

"If you're sure..." Steve trailed off.

"I'm sure." Bucky said firmly.

Steve nodded. It had been a year and a half since they'd rescued Bucky from Hydra, and while he still hadn't been cleared for active-duty with the Avengers, Steve trusted his judgement. When Peter had called the day before, distraught over having to leave their daughter to fly halfway around the world on urgent SHIELD business, Steve had suggested that Bucky stay with her for the week that they'd be gone. Peter, albeit hesitant at first, had not been difficult to win over.

Surprisingly, Tony had also agreed that it was a good idea. It would be a testament to how far he had come if he could survive one week with their insufferable granddaughter - especially when she was sick. While Tony loved their little angel to pieces, he also acknowledged that she'd inherited some of Wade's less... _pleasant_ personality traits. She could drive a sane man to his wits end, and Bucky's sanity had set sail a long, long time ago. 

In other words, if he could survive a week with Everett Wilson, there was no reason that he couldn't be cleared for active-duty with the Avengers. And Bucky was on-board with any plan where he could prove his worth to the team. How bad could a little babysitting be, anyway?

"Alright." Steve walked over and pressed a kiss to Evvie's balmy forehead, smiling shakily when she gave a weak little coo. If he stayed much longer, the kid would have him bawling. "I'll check in later tonight. Good luck. And you be good for Bucky, okay, angel?"

"Yes, Pop-Pop." And then she snuggled down further into her blanket and closed her eyes. 

The minute that Steve was gone, however, it was like someone had flipped a switch inside of the child's brain. Where she'd been sweet and docile while Steve was present, the four-year-old turned to Bucky with the darkest glare she could muster. Bucky swallowed hard - he would  _not_ be intimidated by a child that wasn't even tall enough to reach his hip, damn it! 

"Okay..." he scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Have you eaten anything other than those saltines?" She continued to stare at him blankly. "Alright, then... how about I make you some chicken noodle soup?" 

"I want orange juice." Evvie said stiffly.

Bucky frowned, "You have half a cup of apple juice left. Why don't you finish that first, then if you're still thirsty, I'll get you some orange juice?"

"Want orange juice!" Evvie said, voice rising in pitch. Where was that four-year-old that had sounded like she was dying when talking to Steve just a few moments earlier?

"First of all, you will  _not_ talk to me like that, little lady." Bucky said firmly. The little girl raised a brow, clearly unimpressed by the authoritative tone his voice has taken. "Now, you  _will_ finish your apple juice before getting any more. Clearly, you wanted apple juice at one point, so don't waste it. After that, I will get you the orange juice."

She was silent for a moment, considering his words. And then she threw the apple juice off the table and watched with satisfaction as it soaked into the carpet. "All gone. Orange juice now?"

Oh, that little  _brat_. Now, it was game on. "Nope. Now, it's time for bed."

"Bed?" She looked startled, confused as to how her plan could've gone so horribly wrong. "But... orange juice?"

Bucky ignored her, scooping her up off the couch and over his shoulder. Still cocooned in her Captain America blanket, she didn't really have much recourse to fight back. He carried her up the stairs and to her bedroom, before dropping her onto her bed. She pouted up at him, looking like he'd just snapped the head off of her favorite Barbie doll. And then, with an overdramatic sniffle, she turned her back on him. 

Bucky, 1 - Evvie, 0

Just as Bucky was leaving to go make the chicken noodle soup, something flew through the air and hit him in the eye. He felt a stinging pain and Bucky suddenly realized that the armor on the Iron Man teddy bear had scratched his cornea. 

Bucky, 1 - Evvie, 1 

It was going to be a long week. 


	2. Chicken Noodle Soup & Bedtime Stories

Silence is golden - unless you have a toddler. In that case, silence is very, very suspicious. - Anonymous

* * *

When Bucky returned a half-hour later with a bowl of chicken noodle soup, a cup of orange juice (he did not  _cave_ \- he just figured that both of them had a better chance of walking away from this weekend unscathed if he made a few...  _concessions_ every now and then), her medication, and a book of fairytales, the little girl was nowhere to be found.

Fabulous.

Setting the stuff down on her nightstand, Bucky began to inspect the bedroom. The sheets and blankets on her bed were mussed, still slightly damp with sweat. Maybe she'd been too hot with all of the blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals surrounding her, and had sought out somewhere cooler? He hadn't heard her come downstairs...

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flicker of movement from the closet. It was dark inside, but the doors were slightly parted, allowing some of the light from the bedroom to spill inside. Little fingers were curled around the silver metal of the door, a blue eye studying him carefully from the crack. Bucky released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, making his way over to the closet and yanking the door open with a little more force than was necessary.

Evvie jumped, clearly not expecting that reaction. "Boo?" She offered, her smile weak, hesitant.

"That wasn't funny, kid." Bucky said firmly, "You're sick and you need to rest." He was regretting bringing the orange juice, now. She'd probably think it was a reward for her bad behavior.

"But I wanna play!" Evvie countered, rising to her feet on shaky legs and thrusting her stuffed bunny into Bucky's chest. "Why won't you play with me?"

"You can barely stand, kid. Now isn't the time to play. Now, you get some rest so that you can be all better for when your parents come home." Making his way over to the nightstand, he retrieved her orange juice, "Sit at your desk and drink this down while I change your sheets."

She hesitated for a moment, before taking the orange juice and plopping down into her seat. Bucky began to strip the bed, balling up the sheets and tossing them in the hamper by her door. "Three points!" She giggled, before it morphed into a nasty, phlegm-ridden cough.

The juice shook in her hand, Bucky barely getting to her in time to save it from splattering all over the floor. Setting it on the desk amidst various half-finished drawings (mostly of Deadpool, Bucky noted wryly - it seemed the Merc with a Mouth had quite a little fan), he patted her back firmly, trying to help loosen up the congestion. The coughing went on much longer than Bucky was comfortable with, and he traded the orange juice for the cherry flavored medicine.

Evvie grimaced at the less than pleasant combination of tastes, but finished it all like a champion. "Yucky." She handed the cup back to him, and he put it aside, making a mental note to rinse it out for later.

It didn't take Bucky long to re-make the bed, only putting one of the three blankets back on. "Now, c'mon. It's time for all good little girls to take a nap."

She held her arms out, pouting, "Carry me?"

Bucky rolled his eyes, though he was far from annoyed, "You have two legs that work just fine."

"Daddy always carries me." Evvie continued to pout, reaching out for Bucky once again.

Bucky didn't doubt that she had Wade wrapped around her little finger. A pretty little thing like her probably played on all of her father's insecurity complexes - how did a monster ever deserve to have something so perfect and innocent come into his life? Sometimes, Bucky wondered the same thing when Steve looked at him like he was the same man he had been back in the war. Like he hadn't ended all those innocent lives... like nothing had changed.

Like he wasn't totally the reason that Everett would never get the chance to meet her great-grandparents. And now Steve had entrusted her life into Bucky's hands and that amount of trust... Bucky was in awe that there was anyone left that still felt he deserved it.

Scooping Evvie into his arms, he felt his heart skip a beat when she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. Her pajamas were practically soaked through, like her sheets. "Mmm, you're practically burning up, kid. Let's get you some new pajamas and then I'll check your temperature."

"No! No change! No thermometer!" So much for her being compliant. It was a nice thirty seconds.

Evvie began to twist and contort in Bucky's arms, thrashing wildly until -

Bucky felt a sharp pain in the side of his head, black dots closing in on his vision. He almost dropped the girl, until he realized that she'd twisted herself until she was practically upside-down and had kicked him in the side of the head. Evvie - 2, Bucky - 1.

For a girl burning up with fever, she certainly was a little _monster_.

He plopped her down onto the bed again, ignoring her protests. She'd only make herself worse if she stayed in those gross pajamas, anyhow. Pulling a pair of pajama shorts and a clean t-shirt out of her dresser, he placed them beside her on the bed, before beginning the process of undressing her. She might've been a mini-contortionist, but Bucky was faster. He had her shirt off before she could miss it, and was putting the clean one on by the time she freed a foot to try and kick the other side of his head.

The pants were a little trickier. It took fifteen minutes just to get the pants off, and she actually managed to punch him hard enough to jam up the wires in his mechanical arm. Even if he didn't have any feeling attached to the limb, he knew that that must've hurt her, if the scratched knuckles were any indication. At any rate, it was enough of a distraction to pull the shorts up and heave her up over his flesh and blood shoulder.

She must've learned her lesson, because she didn't try to fight him anymore.

A short jaunt down the hall, and they were at the bathroom. He set her down on the toilet, before rifling through the medicine cabinet for the thermometer. When he found it, he preset it and slipped it into her mouth. "Now, I want you to hold that there with this hand, and give me the one you hurt."

She glared, but did as he had said. "You're a big meanie."

Bucky raised a brow, "You're the one that punched me, but I'm the meanie. Oh, the wonders of four-year-old logic."

"Its not like I hurt you." Evvie retorted.

"You don't know that." But she was right. He wasn't hurt. "Now, keep your mouth shut. I want to get an accurate reading, or we're gonna have to do it over again." That was enough to get her to clam up.

He took a cotton swab and a squeeze-bottle of Neosporin, squirting some on the swab before dusting it over her knuckles. The wound really wasn't bad - it looked more like a brush burn than anything else - but he wasn't about to take any risks. A regular bandage wouldn't cover that, so he took a gauze pad and carefully taped it down. As Evvie inspected his handiwork, the thermometer beeped. 101.2. Higher than he'd like, but alarmingly, not as bad as he'd expected.

"Okay, you're definitely going to bed. When you wake up, we'll take your temperature again and if it hasn't gone down, you're getting a bath." Bucky said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

He picked her up and took her back to the bedroom, plopping her down on the bed and tucking the blanket around her. Once she was comfortable, he gave her the bowl of soup and her glass of orange juice, only for her to shake her head, "I'm not hungry."

"You need to at least try to eat. It'll make you feel better." Bucky assured her gently. 

Realizing that arguing wasn't going to get her anywhere, she sighed, "Fine. I'll eat a little bit."

He took the book and began reading, starting in where someone had inserted a bookmark that had... doodles of Deadpool doing rather questionable things to a unicorn. This poor kid was going to be scarred for life... By the time Evvie dropped off, dozing lightly, she'd eaten about half of the soup and finished the glass of orange juice, which was more than Bucky had hoped for. He closed the book, replacing the obscene bookmark, and gathered his things, preparing to head downstairs and wait for Steve's call, when -

"You don't tell the story right." Evvie mumbled, voice slurred with sleep. "There's always more explosions when Daddy tells it."

"I'm sure there are." Bucky said, ruffling the girl's curls affectionately. "Now, go to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

There was no answer. She was already asleep.


	3. A Call From Steve

Looking after a very sick child was the Olympics of parenting. - Chris Cleave

* * *

Bucky had just finished washing the dishes when the phone began to ring. After checking the Caller ID, he picked it up and held it to his ear with his shoulder. "Stevie, and here I was thinking that you'd never call."

There was a cheerful laugh on the other end of the line.  _"Sorry. Tony and I just landed in San Francisco."_ There was a moment of silence, then,  _"How's she doing? And how are you doing? I mean, I know first hand that taking care of her isn't easy, especially when she's sick."  
_

"Oh, she's just been a perfect little angel." Bucky was lying through his teeth, but then, it wasn't like she'd thrown him anything he couldn't handle. 

And Steve could see right through him. Funny, he didn't think he was that transparent before. Laughing, he said,  _"You don't have to lie to me, Buck. She's a handful. An adorable handful, but a handful nonetheless."_ He paused for a moment,  _"You can be frank, Buck."_

A sigh, "Okay, she's been a nightmare. But it's nothing I can't handle."

 _"I was worried about that."_ He heard someone grumbling in the background, presumably Tony.  _"She's been acting out recently because of the news."_

Bucky frowned, "The news?" That certainly sounded ominous enough.

 _"Wade's pregnant with twins. They just found out."_ From his tone of voice, it was clear that Evvie did not share their joy at the prospect of expanding their little family.  _"She's been acting out ever since they got the news. Peter doesn't know what to do - he was an only child, after all. He just wants her to be happy, but clearly she's not."_

"Has anyone thought to tell her that she isn't being replaced?" Bucky supplied, heading over to the fridge to find something to make Evvie a healthy midnight snack. 

He could almost see the way Steve's shoulders slumped with defeat, pained by the idea of his little granddaughter hurting for any reason.  _"I don't know. I don't know if anyone even thought she might feel that way."_

Bucky thought back to earlier that day, how the little girl had been bundled up like a human burrito on the couch. Undoubtedly, she was used to being the center of everyone's attention, her fathers' little angel that could do no wrong. How had she felt, suddenly recieving the news that she would no longer be the center of her parents' universe? It must've been devastating, having them drop that sort of bombshell on her before running off halfway across the globe to save the world.

He felt a pang of remorse, realizing that perhaps fighting fire with fire had not been the best solution. But then, he'd been fighting an uphill battle with only half the crucial intel, and that was just asking for something to go wrong. He felt like a soldier that had had his ass handed to him in battle, only for his superior officer to tell him that the info that would've saved him a whole hell of a lot of trouble was 'need-to-know'. Things would've been so much easier if he'd known about the pregnancy from the start.

"Bucky!" A low, sickly groan came from upstairs, the child summoning him back up to her bedside. 

"Sorry to cut this short, Stevie, but it sounds like the kid just woke up. You gonna call again, same time tomorrow?" Bucky asked.

 _"Nah, probably not tomorrow. I wouldn't be surprised if Petey calls, though. Keep an eye out for it, though - he's in a weird time zone, so the call might come through at a funky hour."_ Steve said.  _"Tell my girl I love her and I'll see her soon."_

Bucky smiled, "I will. Oh, and tell the Iron Dork that she's taken to using his plushie as a deadly weapon instead of a cuddly toy. She's got one hell of an arm - I think she scratched my cornea earlier tonight."

"Bucky?" There was that whimper again, low and pathetic. "Where are y-you?"

 _"Sounds like you're being summoned. I'll talk to you later, Buck."_ And then the line went dead.

He came bearing another cup of orange juice, some towels, and the portable fan from downstairs. She'd woken and gotten sick on herself. Bucky wrinkled his nose as the stench of half-digested chicken noodle soup hit his nose, suddenly thankful he'd brought the towels along. With some difficulty, he managed to get her out of bed and began peeling off her ruined clothing. She must've felt really shitty, because she didn't even put up a fight.

"You want to tell me what happened, kiddo?" He bundled her up in a towel, before scooping her into his arms and carrying her to the bathroom.

"I woke up and my tummy hurt real bad." She mumbled softly, whimpering as he peeled her off of him to set her down on the toilet seat. "I didn't mean to make a mess... it all happened real fast." 

He started to run the bath, setting the water to a comfortable temperature. "It's not your fault, sweetie. Here, you think you can drink some of this for me?" He handed her the glass of orange juice, which she eyed skeptically. "Just take small sips."

"I don't wanna throw up again." She said flatly, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the strong smell of the juice.

"I don't want you to, either. But I also don't want you getting dehydrated." Evvie frowned, clearly confused by the big word he'd used. "That just means really, really thirsty."

Once the tub was filled, he lifted her off the toilet and placed her in the water. She shivered and fought against him - the room temperature water must've been a shock to her system, if her earlier fever was any indication. But eventually he got her down and situated, handing her some of her bathtime toys to try and distract her. When she'd calmed down considerably, he filled a small basin with water and trickled it down over her crown of inky black curls. She yelped, making a face - but otherwise remained silent.

He talked to her as he washed her down, telling her about his earlier conversation with her Pop-Pop. This seemed to placate her, at least momentarily. She seemed to like hearing stories about Steve, so he filled her in on some of his favorites from their childhood. When he started telling her about a young Steve, she looked at him like he hung the moon and strung along the stars - he knew he'd won her over hook, line, and sinker. 

When her bath was done, he patted her dry with the towel and dressed her in fresh pajamas, before taking her back to her room. The bed had to be stripped again, which meant he'd be doing laundry later. "You think you can sleep a little bit, hmm?"

"Not sleepy! I wanna watch TV." So much for the adoration she'd shown him just a few moments earlier. 

"Nope, no TV... unless you want to watch a boring documentary on the Cold War." She looked confused again, so he elaborated, "That's like a story, but with lots of old people talking and using big, fancy words. There's no princesses, no happily ever after... And no music."

Evvie looked aghast at the idea of a story without music. "Evvie go to bed now." She flopped onto her side and pulled the blanket up over her head, as if to emphasize her point.

Bucky just laughed, "Goodnight, then, you little goofball."

* * *

 

The next morning, the sleepy little girl wandered over to him as he finished folding the laundry, her Captain America blanket (fresh out of the dryer) clutched tightly around her. "What're you doin'?" She mumbled sleepily.

"Laundry." Bucky supplied. "You want to help me fold?"

She plopped down next to him, staring at the basket filled with clothes in wonder. "What's 'laundry'?"

Bucky motioned to the basket, "These were your dirty clothes from last night. I put them in a machine that made them clean again, and now I'm folding them so that they can be put away and used again later."

"Oh." Evvie nodded, accepting what he'd just said. "Daddy doesn't normally do 'laundry'. When his clothes get dirty, they're usually full of holes and blood. So he just buys new ones." And then, quieter, "And he usually wears the same pair of pajamas around the house all the time. Papa says that it's gross."

Bucky showed her how to fold small things, like pillowcases and her t-shirts. It took her a few tries, but she did a fairly decent job. By the large grin on her childish face, it was clear she was quite proud of the job that she'd done, too. Bucky liked the idea of giving children minor responsibilities - things that were small enough for them to handle, but gave them a sense of accomlishment once they were done. Like folding pillowcases.

"So, I hear that someone's going to be a big sister." Bucky said gently. He didn't want to push too hard if the little girl didn't want to talk about it.

There was a moment of silence where he worried the little girl wasn't going to answer, when she finally nodded. "Yeah."

"You're not excited about it?" She shook her head, tousled black curls bouncing over her tiny shoulders. "How come?"

She sniffled, "Daddy and Papa won't need me anymore, once the twins are born." Her tiny hands bunched into fists around the poor pillowcase unfortunate enough to face her wrath. "I don't want to be replaced. I don't..." fat tears had begun falling down her swollen, chubby cheeks. "I don't want them to forget about me."

Bucky tapped her forehead affectionately, "How could they ever forget about someone as spectacular as you?"

"Why do they need new babies?" Evvie whimpered. "I thought that  _I_ was their baby!"

Bucky hesitated for a moment. Perhaps this was a can of worms that would've been better had it been left alone. But then he realized that  _someone_ needed to tell this little girl that she was just as important as the new babies, that this wasn't about being replaced... "You are, and you always will be their precious baby."

When he realized she might, perhaps, need a bit more than that, he remembered how well she'd taken to his stories about her Pop-Pop. Maybe an analogy would help. So he told her about finding out that Steve and Tony had gotten married. Granted, what he and Steve had had was never romantic, but the theory was still the same. Steve was his best friend, and finding out that someone else had wormed their way into his heart in his absence didn't sit well with him at all. Until, of course, he met Tony.

He didn't know what he'd expected out of Howard's son, but it certainly hadn't been the arrogant, cocky,  _entitled_ rich brat that had managed to both entice and infuriate him in a matter of seconds. He hadn't liked the fact that he was only a mission, no longer a partner. Tony was the one Steve would come home to and that had hurt... until he took the time to really get to know him, and he realized that there was so much more to Tony than met the eye. And he could say now, with total confidence, that Steve picked a winner.

"Your Pop-Pop wasn't trying to replace me, kiddo, just like your parents aren't trying to replace you. Do you love your Daddy more than your Papa, or the other way around?" She hurriedly shook her head. "So why would they love you any less, just because they have more kids? That just means there's more love to go around."

"You're real smart, you know that?" Evvie teased.

"You ain't too shabby yourself, kid." Once they'd finished folding the laundry, he loaded it back into the basket and rose to his feet. "Now, what do you say we take your temperature and then have some breakfast?"

Evvie flashed him her best puppy dog eyes, "Can we watch cartoons? Daddy always lets me watch cartoons on Saturday."

"Are you going to let me take your temperature like a good girl?" Bucky asked. She seemed to consider this seriously for a moment, before Bucky helpfully supplied. "No temperature, no cartoons."

She was halfway up the stairs and heading toward the bathroom before he even finished his statement. 

 

 


End file.
